


And I Am Not Resigned

by Lacrimacorona



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family, Vague Suicidal Ideation, descriptions of death and dying, in which Stephen makes a deal with some psuedo-gods to save Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27296194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacrimacorona/pseuds/Lacrimacorona
Summary: In which Stephen makes a deal with some psuedo-gods to save Tony's life, because how do you not fall in love with a man you spent 14 million+ futures with.this is a very silly, self indulgent thing based on a plot bunny i had recently while reading the comics.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	And I Am Not Resigned

* * *

_I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground._

_So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:_

_Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned_

_With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned._

* * *

This was his fault.

He was watching, from the other side of the ruined ground, as Tony Stark gasped against death. He could feel the grief, the terror, from Tony’s many loved ones washing across the earth more keenly than he’d felt the crash of the tidal wave he’d held back moments ago; he could hear Peter begging, choked; and pepper’s hitching breaths; Even Rhodes, throat tight as he watched his friend slip further and further, lungs struggling against shock and pain to draw air.

It was his fault.

He’d looked into the future, he’d seen this. He knew it was the only way. Tony, with his indomitable will and steel spirit, his self-sacrificing nature, his raw determination to make sure that all of this was stopped, righted. and he’d been so, so sure he could handle it-- this finality, this last ditch rush to victory and the loss it would bring cascading with it. He’d seen Tony die so many times now; and peter, the guardians; he’d watched his entire order fall hundreds of times, watched wakanda go down swinging and howling. 

Sometimes death snuck up on him, so quick that all he experienced was deep, fathomless black and then the dull light of a new future; sometimes it was slow and it was agonizing; sometimes Tony went first, and sometimes it was him, sometimes it was Peter or Pepper or, on more occasions than he had expected, Natasha. Still, there was always death waiting-- so many deaths. Fourteen million he’d witnessed until he found the last one. The one where they won.

He hadn’t seen it. Not really. He’d been shaken out of the future by his own grief before he watched Tony breathe his last. He hadn’t been able to watch it. This man he’d spent Fourteen million lifetimes fighting beside, dying with, dying for, growing with. 

_Loving._ _  
  
_

He hadn’t been able to watch him die that last time, not when he realized it was the only future where they won. Not when he knew _this_ was what he had to bring to fruition. Still, he’d so delicately drawn Tony down this path, and now he was forcing everyone who loved Tony to watch him die.

But... _He_ hadn’t seen him die. He didn’t look further. It was his own future past that point, he couldn’t look, didn’t dare-- but that left room. 

There was still something he could do. He hadn’t seen past this. He’d been so sure it was the finality, that this,This last Death, was the end of the line. The one they’d won. _But he hadn’t seen him die._ There was time, there was--

_Time._

He could fix it.

He was the master of the Time Stone. It was so simple, almost _stupid._ The plan formulated so quickly it made him dizzy, but he was moving before he could stop himself, before he could second guess. He found the stone with his eyes, hearing it’s whispers, it’s calling, it’s desire to continue to be used. It materialized so easily between his fingers, silent, and all it took was a twist of his hand to make everything 

_Stop._

The Silence of the world, of time stopping, was deafening. It made his aching hands shake worse, as he looked across the ruined compound grounds. The dead, the dying, allies and enemies, the dust that had once been Thanos motionless in a pile on the dirt, barely distinguishable.

And Her, cloaked in black that felt deeper and darker than the void of space, a shadow hovering over Tony; She was almost slumped, like She was grieving as much as the rest of them, hurt by what She was being made to do.

Stephen approached slowly, but She knew he was there already. She let him approach, and he watched Her heave a sigh.

“I can’t make a deal without It here.” she said, before Stephen could even open his mouth. He knew who She was talking about, and he’d been afraid She would say that. She turned to face him, Her hood and the obscured sun casting Her skull in sharp shadows that made her look sad.

“I’ll hear your terms first.” She said, Her voice echoing with the power of a deal maker. “Then we bring It, and let It decide.”

Stephen nodded, turning his eyes for a moment to Tony. “what’s killing him?” he asked hoarsely instead. She hummed, thoughtful, kneeling in the dirt without disturbing it beside the man Stephen loved and leaning far, _far_ too close.

“His heart is overloaded, but it’s the shock. The pain. His body is convinced it’s dying, and so he is.” She sounded so…. Soft. So _sad._ The tone made Stephen's heart ache so badly in his chest he thought it might stop. “Giving up.”

“Let me take it from him.” Stephen said, firmly, resolutely, without thinking. “Give me time. It’s all I need. Allow me time, and give me the pain.” She looked back at him, tilting her head in silent challenge. “I’m undamaged. I can handle pain, and I have motivation enough not to give up.” He wasn’t looking at Her. His eyes were stuck on Tony, on the burns that had crawled all the way up his neck and face, his ashen skin, the light in those honey brown eyes barely clinging on.

“You Love him.” She cooed, like a revelation, like a ringing bell. Like it was exactly what She needed.

She lifted off her knees, stepping delicately around the frozen assembly to where Stephen stood, struck by Her words and the weight they had placed so firmly on his chest. She held out Her hand to him, and he reached to take it without hesitation.

“I will give you time,” She said, that powerful but soft echo filled with cold, cold magic. “And you will take his pain. And you will save him, Stephen strange. If It agrees.” She shook his hand once, and he could feel the freezing whisper of Her magic rushing through his veins.

“Thank you,” he breathed, and now was the time for permissions. There was only One being that could truly make this decision. One in the entire multiverse had the power; The universal Judge. 

The Living Tribunal.

And Stephen would call It here to judge Tony. to Rule on Tony’s life, and whether he should be allowed to continue it. Whether he was cosmically worthy to cheat death.

Stephen made fast work of it. He was Sorcerer Supreme, it was as much his job to safeguard this universe as it was the Tribunal’s, and from where he stood it was woefully unprepared to lose Tony Stark today. The summoning rites were done with no pomp or circumstance, no flare. He called out to the Tribunal, and the Tribunal answered.

It’s presence was all encompassing, overwhelming; it made every minor ache in Stephen flare white hot, but he stood firm and looked on the shimmering gold, statuesque form of the Universal judge and bowed his head as It spoke.

“Sorcerer Supreme,” Equity, unhooded in the center, boomed, “A case must be heard today. You barter with death for the life of a man.”

“I do.” Stephen said

“She Agrees to give you time, and to transfer his agony to you.”

“I do” She said.

“We Who Are agree to rule on the case presented.” Equity decided after a moment of heavy silence hung, and Stephen let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “We will rule on the worthiness of Tony Stark to continue his life in this universe, and on your bargain.”

Stephen very nearly let his legs give out, but he held fast, nodding his head again firmly and letting his eyes drift to Tony’s frozen form again. He stop his clinical brain from formulating treatment plans, a plan of action once the rule was brought down. He didn’t allow himself any room for doubt-- he’d seen Tony’s soul, those fourteen million lifetimes were all he needed to know that Tony was worthy. A counterbalance to the malicious forces in this universe and others.

A counterbalance to Stephen himself; arrogant and clouded, rule-breaking and sacrificial. Stephen would gladly trade himself entirely if the Tribunal ruled it necessary. No one would miss him, besides maybe Wong and the cloak. No one would remember. The world would be safer. He had to be prepared for the moment an agreement was struck.

He was snapped from his thoughts by the voices of The Tribunal beginning their discussion.

“We must keep balance.” Equity reasoned firmly, while Revenge to It’s left scoffed beneath it’s half-hood. “This universe and the multiverse must remain in balance. The Mad Titan is dead, and the imbalance he caused righted. We must not overbalance.”

“His imbalance has been _tipped._ ” Revenge boomed, affronted. “The deaths he wrought with his own hands and his sword and his armies are not corrected. He owes a debt, we have an opportunity to have that debt paid.”

“The Debt must be repaid.” Necessity agreed, “To bring balance, it must be. And Tony Stark’s sacrifice, while noble, will only grow the debt. Another life snuffed out by Thanos, and this one would weigh the scales too far to correct.”

“Is the bargain enough? Is _that_ debt payable by the Sorcerer Supreme?” Equity questioned, and all three that made up the One paused a moment to consider it.

“It is all that is necessary to balance Death’s scales.” necessity finally answered, and revenge rumbled in response.

“But our scales? Stephen Strange saw to this path. He looked only at Fourteen million six hundred and five possibilities.” Revenge argued, and Equity’s brows furrowed sharply.

“He is but a man. It was more than a man should ever witness. He is aiming to pay that debt now.” Equity reasoned, and Revenge seemed quelled by this. There was another moment of silence where the Trinity seemed to reason within itself, and it was heavy on Stephen’s shoulders. Death stood resolutely at his side, Her own gaze wandering across the battlefield at all the work She had left to do.

“We Who Are have come to a ruling.” Equity’s too-loud voice broke the thick quiet, and Stephen forced his eyes to meet the Entity’s star-bright ones. “The scales of Tony Stark’s soul have been weighed, and the scales of the multiverse have been counter-weighed against it. We rule that the Bargain is sufficient, and that Tony Stark is necessary still in this universe. Should you fail in your task, Stephen Strange, we will take _you_ to balance and right your grievous wrong.”

Stephen would give himself over a thousand times, it didn’t matter. He didn’t care, he agreed, nodding his head firmly.

“Do you agree to these terms, Stephen Strange?” Equity’s voice was like thunder

“I do”

“Do you agree to these terms, Lady Death?”

“I do” Her tone was soft, soothing, the cool breeze of Finality.

“Then it is done. Tony Stark will live, He is Worthy. Our judgement is Final, and Unbreakable. Do not fail, Stephen Strange.”

The Tribunal was gone as suddenly as It had come, leaving Stephen feeling hollow and slightly sick. He stuttered on his feet, breathing thickly for a moment before he swallowed hard and straightened his back. The agreement was struck, he had to be ready, he had to prepare, he--

“Are you ready, Stephen?” She asked him, and she was already beside Tony again, and everything was suddenly very, very intense. Stephen’s hands shook, and he breathed, and he walked to her. He knelt, reaching out to touch the undamaged side of Tony’s face with a delicacy he didn’t know he had anymore in his shattered hands.

“You won’t fail.” She said softly, but with finality. “He will live, and you will live, and you will love him more fiercely than anything. I can see it, burning inside you. Keep it safe, Stephen, you’ll need it.”

The first trickle of agony prickled behind his heart, seeping deep into his chest. Another bloom at the fingertips of his right hand.

“Now, Stephen. Go. Clock is ticking.” her voice was sweet, and she reached out, touching his shoulder, and the breath was taken right out of his lungs.

He wrenched his arm, breaking the stillness all around him. The cacophony of sound spilled in like an assault, and it took everything Stephen had not to _scream_ as his knees hit the dirt _._

Pepper and Rhodes and Peter dove away from him, his sudden appearance there jarring them. Pepper had hold of Tony’s hand, Rhodes had an arm around Peter, why weren’t any of them _moving_ when Tony was--

“W-wait” Peter whimpered, “M-Mister stark, Mister stark can you hear me? H-he’s breathing, he’s--”

“We have to get him to a hospital.” Stephen choked, one hand fisted in his robes under his sternum. When no one moved right away, he snarled at them. “ _Now!_ Peter, pick him up. Pick him up! Go! We don’t have time!”

He was on his feet, and Peter was scrambling. Rhodes looked angry, but Stephen couldn’t Focus on him right now-- not when Tony’s breathing was coming in steadier without the pain drowning his body’s ability to regulate.

“ _Help me,_ i can save him.” he pleaded, “Help me save him. Please.” he looked at Pepper, who seemed on a knife’s edge, ready to tip.

She did.

“Where?”

“Metro General. Christine Palmer.” Pepper’s powerful, knowing eyes met his own, and She nodded firmly. Pepper was a woman of action, and to action she went without an expectation of explanation. Peter had Tony hauled into his arms, and Rhodes was supporting his head-- against his own better judgement, it seemed, because he was looking at Stephen like he was an inch from throttling him for drawing this out.

He could thank Stephen later.

He only barely managed to make a portal right into the emergency room of Metro General, Pepper having already opened a line to the hospital to warn them-- they’d be swamped after the return, but Iron Man was dying and Stephen had heard pepper say his name, which meant Christine would be waiting for them.

He was rushing through with Peter and Rhodes, Pepper on their tail, all of them still in their armor as they crashed through the halls. Stephen’s heart was Arrhythmic and he couldn’t breathe, he was gasping, choking, Stumbling over his own feet, and his right arm was useless.

But Tony was breathing. Tony would Live.

Christine was running towards them with a stretcher and her team, and Tony was loaded onto it. Pepper forced Tony’s suit to retract, and she was following them, and Rhodes was going too, sharp words directed at them that Stephen didn’t hear; and Tony was disappearing, and stephen was losing himself, darkness spidering at the edges of his vision.

“Doctor Strange!” Peter’s voice was strangled, panicked, Too-strong hands grabbing at him. “W-what’s happening? Wh-- are you okay? Is… Is mister stark…?”

“Peter,” Stephen gasped, Dragged back to the present by bright, wonderful Peter.”He’s going to live. I know it. He has to. He has to Live.” he watched the gurney go until it was around a corner, before he turned his face to Peter.

The poor kid. He looked terrified, lost. Stephen grabbed at him, wrapping his arms around him tightly, pulling him right to his chest despite how much it hurt. “He’s going to live, peter. Please, Trust me. We saved him.” Peter was clinging, sagging, his strong shoulders shaking and jerking with sharp sobs. Stephen’s heart shattered, and he held on tighter.

“Doctor strange, are you…?” His voice was so small, muffled by Stephen’s neck.

“Peter,” he murmured, hoarse-- he couldn’t be out here, he’d draw attention, someone would think he was hurt, it would pull from patients who actually needed help. “We have to move, Peter. I need your help.” he dusted his hand through Peter’s hair, and bless this boy, he gripped Stephen tight and he moved.

Stephen directed him to a barely used broom closet-- the same one he’d used all those years ago when he’d portaled here dying the first time. He collapsed, right there on the floor, the moment the door was closed. Peter made an awful little sound, kneeling next to Stephen while he writhed against the cold floor.

Stephen never lost consciousness. It was his price to pay, to carry Tony’s pain. He gasped and shook and convulsed, choked as his lungs struggled to keep up with how much air he needed. He tried to convince Peter it was alright, he held Peter’s hand and shushed him when he cried. Eventually they were both on the floor, peter clinging to him for dear life, like he might lose him if he let go.

He had no idea how long they were actually there. Minutes, hours, it all bled together, thick and heavy and awful. When the pain finally eased away, when stephen was finally able to gasp a real lungful of air, he waited. He waited for just a moment, panic and fear slamming into him as he thought maybe he’d failed.

He waited for the Tribunal to appear and eradicate him.

When it never came, he _sobbed._ He pulled peter, confused and afraid, into his chest and held him there. When peter made a soft, fearful, questioning sound all Stephen could do was whisper. “He made it.”

* * *

He and peter emerged tear-stained and exhausted from the broom closet eventually--stephen didn’t know how long they’d sat on that cold floor just breathing--; and took themselves to find out where Tony was. Pepper found them first, shouting at them in a mix of anger and fear and absolute, earth shattering relief. She didn’t give them a chance to explain where they’d been, she just hugged them both, her own suit already shed and her arms warm.

“He’s alive.” She said finally, tears in her eyes, while she had her arms around both of them, clinging like they were as much a lifeline to her as she was for them at the moment.

She lead them to Tony’s room, and peter was crying again, quietly. Stephen kept an arm around him, kept him close, let Peter hold onto him. They looked through the glass pane at Tony, lying still but breathing-- steady and even--, his skin already closer to it’s natural pallor.

Pepper had cleanup, she had to tell everyone else, they’d left them in the middle of the ruined compound and Rogers was asking questions. She knew Tony wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. She offered to get them both home, and Peter looked like he was going to die at the very idea of leaving. She smiled, tearful and knowing, and nodded. She let peter and stephen go in, and left them to it. Rhodes had already been here, there was a phone on the table, and a note.

Peter held Tony’s hand for a little while, sitting on the edge of Tony’s bed, and Stephen held Peter’s to tether him. They watched Tony’s heart monitor, watched his breathing. The arc was back in his chest-- he wondered if Pepper had gone to get it. Heart damage, stephen could only guess at the moment; Death had said his heart was overloaded.

They stayed that way for a long time. Peter would occasionally cry, but mostly he talked softly to Tony. Stephen let him. Eventually, Stephen pulled one of the awful hospital recliners over, close to Tony’s bed, close enough for Peter to reach out and touch his hand. They both settled into the chair, Peter tucked into Stephen’s side like a child, vulnerable and overwhelmed and so desperately in need of comfort, stability.

Tony was Alive. Stephen had succeeded. He squeezed Peter gently, listening to his soft breathing, and Tony’s heart monitor, and letting it lull him to sleep.

* * *

_Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave_

_Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;_

_Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave._

_I know. But i do not approve_

_And I Am Not Resigned._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> The Poem featured is two sections of Dirge without music, by edna st. vincent millay. it's a favourite of mine, i have some of it tattooed on me, and i thought it fit quite nicely.
> 
> you can find me on twitter at @StrangeFerrum


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